Her Broken Smile
by zhengjiamei
Summary: "The smile she'd released was only a ghost of the real thing. A replica of it. A false representation. A mere fragment." One-shot songfic for Maroon 5's She Will be Loved.


**DISCLAIMER**: All characters and recognizable plot belong to the very lovely J.K. Rowling, without who this fic might not have been plausible. And without who, my time would have been wasted away doing nothing productive like study for school. And without who, I might not have met the dashing Tom Felton (sigh). And without who, the world of _Harry Potter_ would not have been created and we Potterheads would not know where we would be in right now. (Although I still am upset that Hermione ended up with Ron. Ew.)

In addition, I am not profiting whatsoever on this fic, so I would only ask for one teeny-tiny favor… _review_, please! Hahaha! :D

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**AUTHOR'S NOTES**: This is my first one-shot (and songfic), heavily influenced by Maroon 5's _She Will be Loved_. (Initially, song lyrics were incorporated, but I later learned that you can't do that on this site.) This is AU, meaning alternate universe, so you all might notice that the characters are _very_ OOC, which is intended. And, as there are only slight indications of sex, rape, abuse, and mild profanity here, I gave it a T rating instead of an M. :)

Here's a quick background: (I'm going to rant a little bit so I hope you bear with me! :D)

In here, Voldemort wins the war (meaning Harry is dead, and so is Ron), so all Muggle-borns are distributed to pureblood families as slaves (or anything they want them to be) – one Mudblood per family. Hermione Granger, coincidentally, gets sent to the Malfoys.

Now, Voldemort won, right? Remember Draco Malfoy's cowardice in HBP? Well, Voldemort's still furious with him and wants him dead (he holds grudges really bad), despite the fact that Lucius Malfoy is one of his most loyal supporters. And oh yeah, only Voldy's supporters are allowed their wands, so Dramione are wandless and powerless here. (Poor them.)

Characters in here are: Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy, with mentions of Lucius Malfoy.

Well, I guess that's it. Here it is, and hope you enjoy reading! :) –Nina

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**Her Broken Smile**

Despite the fact that she was soiled with filth and a purplish-blue mark marred her features – a new one, a fucking _new_ one – she was still the most beautiful person to me.

She winced slightly as the cold skin of my finger comes in contact with the tender bruise on her cheek, and I reflexively pulled my hand back.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, using gentler strokes this time, watching her face infinitesimally relax.

"You shouldn't be here." Her voice – if you could even call it that – barely made any sound. Just a stuttered breath escaping her parted lips.

It made me furious to think that this was what she'd been reduced to, what Voldemort's regime resulted in. Her spirit – her Gryffindor fighting spirit, the spirit I'd loved from the start – was all but gone now, shattered beyond repair. The days of fighting with the Order were gone, of fighting with Potter and Weasley were gone, and she seemed, to myself, to have gone with them. Those amber eyes that always blazed with determination and thoughtfulness were replaced by a glassy, far-off, and very dejected look, and she had a pallor that was almost always present… except when –

"I wanted to see you," I told her ardently.

"But if _they_ see you they'll –"

"Have me Kissed by Dementors, I know," I cut her off with utter blankness.

She looked at me – truly looked this time, not looked _through_ me – and her eyes showed the first signs of emotion in the short duration of the time I'd spent with her tonight. She looked fearful, concerned, and I bit back a growl as I realized just how stupid and selfless she was acting.

She was worried about _me_, when she was in this state. She was worried about _me_, when something far more sinister lurked beyond the unyielding brick wall that stood behind us. She was worried about _me_, when she should be worried for _herself_.

Ironic, wasn't it? We were both worried sick day in and day out for each other, and not for our own selves.

The sky resembled an inky velvet blanket with dark clouds roaming on the horizon, without a trace of even the brightest star nor a sliver of the moon. Once or twice, the forecasted storm would make itself known and the wind would pick up. Inevitably, the highest turret of the familiar mansion that stood just beyond the wall came into my line of vision, and I had to repress a shudder.

This _was_ my home. Now, it was her prison.

"Where do you hide?" she whispered out of the blue. Because I knew her too well, I recognized – there it was, the sodding concern again. But this time, there was also curiosity laced in her tone of voice.

I managed to smirk. "Nowhere in particular."

"Then you should hide better – and not run off to see me every time."

Her tongue might lie, but her body never did. In fact, her body positioning proved just how much she wanted to be with me as of the moment as much as I wanted to be with her. Her breaths stirred the hairs on the exposed skin on my neck and her forehead rested lightly upon my chin. I, too, was very aware of the static each wave of her breath caused upon me and my body, and had to screw my eyes together to prevent any more… _inappropriate_ thoughts from flowing into my mind.

Our hips were thrust together, just like how they had been so many times before…

It was myself who'd granted her her first time. I remembered her wince of pain as her blanket of femininity was ripped from her womb, I remembered myself rubbing circles upon the skin on her hips in an attempt to relax her, I remembered the priceless look on her face and the tears on her eyes as she'd first unraveled beneath me, but mostly, I remembered her sweet calling of my name…

Funny how the world's problems seemed weightless whenever I was with her, because everything that seemed consequential to myself had something to do with her.

Fat droplets of rain began to hit us, but I couldn't care less about that.

With nothing but passion overriding my troubled mind, I had her pinned to the wall beneath me and crushed my lips to hers, feeling the stirring sensations of long-dormant lust fuelling my every movement. I felt her tremble as she kissed me back with such fervor and acute intensity that it seared me beyond my lips and into my very soul. Her arms slid through my neck and her fingertips began caressing the back of my head. Although the sensation of having her fingernails graze upon my scalp was something trivial, I could not help but release the soft growl from my mouth onto hers.

She smelled of soil and rain and filth, but, still, she smelled wonderful to me.

Now drenched in cold sheets of rain, she pulled away from me all of a sudden, her breaths coming out in small huffs. Her cinnamon hair was matted to her forehead and neck, resembling smooth maple syrup.

"You have to leave," she pleaded. "It will be light soon. Go find shelter –"

"I'm not leaving you here, not anymore." My tone was resolute, final. "Not with Fa – _him_."

She winced as I almost slipped and called him _Father_. She could not accept that someone so bestial could be related to me, wouldn't accept it. She never told me in detail any of her worst nightmares, but I somehow knew instinctively. Used, abused, discarded…

"I'll be f-fine."

"That's a load of bullshit."

Her amber eyes slightly narrowed at my blatant profanity. "It's not anything I can't handle."

Again, the same stubbornness she always possessed irked me to no end. How she could pretend to be _fine_ after everything she'd gone through in his hands was beyond me. "For Merlin's sake, he _rapes_ you, Granger! And you want to stay _here_?!" I gestured rudely to the vile marks my – _his_ fingers made on the tops of her arms.

The mention of _rape_ made a little catch in her throat and made her tight fists shake. "It's not like I have a choice," she gasped out incoherently. "_You_ can go. Make yourself safe. For me."

"How is _myself_ hiding out of any benefit to you?!"

"I worry myself sick all the time thinking about you, Draco! Every day!" she said fervently, her voice cracking, and I couldn't tell if it were tears flowing from her eyes or the rain. "You risk every night to come here and see me, and I don't know where you hide out, or if they'll find you, or if you're okay during the day. At least you're assured that _I'm_ here everyday. Now if you could just give me assurance that you'd be okay tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day, then… that would make me very happy."

"Happy," I scoffed. "I don't think I know what the fuck that means anymore."

"I know what it means to _me_." She cupped my dripping chin in her tiny hand and spoiled herself a tiny smile in this bleak world. "You."

The smile she'd released was only a ghost of the real thing. A replica of it. A false representation. A mere fragment.

I'd do anything to see her smile, though, may it be a broken smile.

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[A/N: I do have some more ideas on this – maybe enough to make it a multi-chaptered fic – but I don't know how it will be accepted by you people. After all, it has _the_ sensitive theme again: rape (which I've gotten a few wrinkled noses for in my other fic) so I don't know if I'd do it or not. Please tell me what you've thought of this and whether or not I should go with the new fic (since I've finished the other one for some time now and am itching to do more). I would really like your honest opinions. :) Thanks for reading! –Nina]


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